To woman’s best friend
today at 9:38 pm
I haven’t written in a while. It’s not that I didn’t know how but purposefully refused to because words once they’re out there make things abundantly clear. There are certain words–certain thoughts, that cannot be stuffed back into your mouth and swallowed.
For the last two months, I have been wishing for a time machine. If you’re familiar with my blog, you know that this is a common thread among my posts. I wish to go back in time more than a person who only recently saw Back to the Future realistically should.
It’s been two months since I put my first cat, Timmie, down. Two months since I made the decision for a living creature that had been my constant that this was the end of the road. When we open our hearts to animal companions, this is not a right we want but it’s a decision we sometimes have to make. No one wants this. We do it in a daze and sometimes, regret it immediately. From a TED Talk I listened to some weeks ago by an emergency veterinarian who administers euthanasia, these words have stayed with me:
“Grief is the natural price we pay for loving”
For anyone who has lost someone, furry companion or otherwise, you know how hard saying goodbye is. It’s likely the most difficult thing you’ll do in your life. You’ll grieve in your own way and sometimes that may mean letting the things that once brought you solace slip away.
Sometimes life sucks and you need to cry until your eyes look so atrocious that cold spoons are rendered useless and you need to call off work and wear sunglasses indoors because you can’t even look at yourself while your other cats not-so-silently judge you.
My hope is for you to find your way back to the thing that brought you joy, even though your heart is broken.
And if I have spent two months holding onto words which were once my solace because putting them down made them real, made them no longer mouth-stuffable, made them indefinitely true and forever out in the universe, I’d like to say this: I don’t know if I did everything I could have. I don’t know if everything I did was even right. But I loved you a ridiculous amount, Timmie, and as much as it hurts to lose you, I am so much better for having had you.
I love you.